a decade under the influence
by xfucktheglasses
Summary: If heaven's grief brings hell's rain, then I'll trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday. —Tobirama/Mito.
1. i think you're attractive

To Rhea for shipping this with me. Say hello to the comeback of my infamous drabble!series!Anyway, I have this fascination for this pairing; many ship Madara/Mito and others ship the canon Hashirama/Mito. Me? I ship Tobirama/Mito because it oozes first-loves and angsty-endings.

I invite you all to my ship.

(Also, in my humble defense, Mito's background is close to nonexistent. I am building it up from scratch so technically I can't be wrong OR right. Fight me.)

**A Decade Under The Influence**

He's in the training grounds when they meet.

They're not officially called as such, but Tobirama likes to go there to practice with his katana. The sun is beginning to set, but the air is still warm and a bit dry save for the breeze that would blow by every now and then. He's down to just his nin-pants, sweat dribbling down his bare torso as he braced himself into his battle stance, katana ready to strike at the dummy he had tied up to a tree.

She gives off a soft snort, shattering his concentration entirely and causing him to whirl around, burgundy eyes narrowed and lips curled.

"What do you want?" He demands, not knowing her by name but identifying her as an Uzumaki by her chakra.

Attractive chakra, he comments to himself, sizing her up as he lowers his katana and stands to his full height. She stares back at him with her head tilted and her hands resting at her hips, long red hair tied loosely behind her.

"I'm merely looking around the village," she comments, shrugging a shoulder in nonchalance. "I just so happen to find myself here."

He raises an eyebrow, stabbing his katana to the ground and leaning his forearm on the hilt. "Is that so. And what is an Uzumaki doing on the other side of the river?"

She blinks, taking a step close enough for him to catch the interest that clouds her eyes. "My father has come to help construct your village."

"Oh, how kind," he drawls, snatching his katana and turning away from her. "Run along now."

Tobirama hears her hiss and listens to the rustle of the grass as she takes quick steps towards him. His body tenses up, waiting for her to attack him, but she never does. Instead, she snatches his katana from his grip, holding it in an improper manner yet still running towards the dummy, slicing it up and causing splinters to explode in the air. He watches as she lets go of the hilt, the blade still stuck to the tree and he slowly raises his eyebrows, arms crossed in front of his chest.

"Well."

"I know how to fight," she hisses, and she seems like a kitten ready to attack. She takes a deep breath, grasping her composure. "Don't belittle me."

"I wasn't."

She glares at him and he walks forwards, hands inside the pockets of his nin-pants. He gives her a slow half-grin, silver-white hair falling over his happuri and tangling with his lashes. He stands an inch in front of her, his hand grasping the hilt of his blade and pulling it out of the tree without much trouble.

"It's getting dark," he drawls, lifting his unoccupied hand towards her. "You should head home."

She swipes at his hand, smacking his wrist away. She glares at him and he raises an eyebrow, attempting to reach towards her again and pulling a splinter out of her hair. Tobirama holds it up to her, giving her a look that said he is just doing a good deed and nothing more; her response is to slap his wrist again, sneering at him before stomping away.

He tries not to laugh, walking after her after picking up his shirt and the sheath his blade.

.

.

.


	2. i want you to spar with me

**Dedication:** To Towel Time.  
**Summary:** If heaven's grief brings hell's rain, then I'll trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday.  
**Notes:** SDJSKD! It makes me so happy that six of you are all for this!

**A Decade Under The Influence**

"You're a Senju."

Tobirama puffs up air in his cheeks, looking up at the sky as he listens to her near him. He turns around just as she stops in front of him, her hands at her hips and a strand of red hair caught in her lashes. He is quiet, for a moment, saving his breath and allowing himself to study her.

She is average size, the top of her head reaching his chin. Her hair, under the sun, was a bright red; it fell down to her mid-back, tied loosely at the end. And the shade of red of her hair seemed to make her dark violet eyes stand out more in a way that made Tobirama pause and stare her straight in the eye for a few seconds. Finally, he sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Is it important?"

"You know I'm an Uzumaki," she states, shrugging a shoulder. "It's only fair I know that you are my distant—_very_ distant—relative."

He crosses his arms in front of his chest, sleeves of his black nin-shirt rolled up to his elbows. "Your chakra gave me such information."

She narrows her eyes.

Tobirama scoffs, shaking his head. "Yes, I am a Senju. Would you kindly leave me be; I'm training."

"I'll train with you."

At this, he pauses, turning to face her again. "You're serious?"

"Why not?" she asks, eyes flashing.

He analyzes her, again. Her white haori, her black kimono top and matching shorts, her navy-blue obi, her shin-guards and her nin-sandals. She looks… She isn't even carrying a weapon's pouch. Tobirama shakes his head. "It's fine. Maybe some other day."

"Fuck you, Senju. I'm as fierce as any of your lapdogs." She shakes her haori off, throwing it aside and readying herself for a fight. "I don't need any weapon."

"Now who is belittling who?"

"C'mon," she says, smirking, "let's have a little taijutsu spar."

Tobirama sighs, eyes growing wide as he dodges a quick punch aimed at his face.

In the end, he pins her to the ground, his hand twisting her wrist and pressing it against her back, kneeling and hovering above her. He half grins at the back of her head, watching as she turns to eye him from the corner of her eye, glare heavy and sneer poisonous.

.

.

.


	3. i want to see you

**Dedication:** To Rhea, my co-captain of this ship.  
**Summary:** If heaven's grief brings hell's rain, then I'll trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday.  
**Notes:** You guys don't understand, the more you review, the more courage I get to keep rowing this boat. In other news, this story isn't anything LARGE, per se. I'm testing the waters, really. That's why they're drabbles of just them interacting (and hopefully at some point I can get some Hashirama/Tobirama broship). But even with the lack of some magical shazam, I promise I'll make it worth your while. You KNOW how I am with character feelings.

**A Decade Under The Influence**

She gulps for air and the way her chest heaves is attractive—like her chakra, he muses, eyeing her as she regains her composure.

Tobirama sighs, walking towards his discarded shirt and using it to dry the thin coat of sweat from his bare torso before sliding it on. He turns around and watches her finger-comb her hair and fix her attire. He runs a hand through his own hair, ruffling it up as he takes a couple of steps away from her.

The sun is setting and the sky has darkened to a cobalt blue. The village is still in its early stages of construction, but while his brother is busy making up with Uchiha Madara and doing what ever idiocy he can think of, Tobirama comes to these training grounds—as he has dubbed them—to sweat out his stress and annoyance and regain his poise to deal with his brother's antics.

It is only mere pointers that he's met someone to entertain him in these moments.

"Tomorrow?" he asks, swallowing the hesitance.

"What?"

"Should I expect you tomorrow, Uzumaki."

"Mito."

He turns towards her, an eyebrow raised. "What?"

"My name is Mito."

Tobirama stares at her with an impassive expression, taking his happuri off and giving a courteous nod. "Should I expect you?"

She stares at him for a second, tucking shorter strands of her red hair behind her ear before nodding. "Yes."

"Okay."

"But I want you to take me out for ramen."

He falters, spinning around to face her with his brow furrowed and his burgundy eyes squinted in confusion. "What?"

"Ramen," she nods, enunciating the syllables. "I want you to take me out for ramen."

Tobirama blinks his eyes and swallows a chuckle, shaking his head and leading the way out of the fields.

.

.

.


	4. i want to know everything about you

**Dedication:** To sleep because omg sleep.  
**Summary:** If heaven's grief brings hell's rain, then I'll trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday.  
**Notes:** I have a headcanon that all Uzumakis have a thing for ramen (:

**A Decade Under The Influence**

"Frogs."

He stares at her. "Frogs?"

Mito nods, chewing on some of her ramen before spinning on her stool to face him. "I just—they're fascinating creatures, don't you think?"

Tobirama snorts, staring down at his bowl of ramen and fighting back a sigh and forcing some of the noodles down his throat. He's never been too fond of the snack; perhaps it is because ramen was the only thing Itama could cook and the only thing he would make when it was his turn to cook and his father was out, ranting and raving with the rest of the clan.

Perhaps it's because ramen links to his dead little brother so it clenches his stomach and leaves no room for an appetite.

"If you say so," he says, feeling as if he's swallowed lead.

She stares at him. "Fine, what's _your_ favorite animal?"

"Cats," he says without even thinking about it.

"Ugh," she scoffs, throwing her head back and waving a hand in the air. "So predictable."

"It's better than a _frog_."

"As if!"

Mito composes herself, flipping her hair and finishing her ramen in silence. "Why cats?"

Tobirama clears his throat, slowly pushing his bowl of ramen away from his person. He reaches up, pulling his happuri off and setting it down in front of him before running his hands down the length of his face and then ruffling his hair. He turns to face her, wine-red eyes catching the way she observed him without his customary facial armor.

"Cats," he begins to say, "are very cunning. They learn fast; know how to get themselves out of situations."

"They're cuddly," Mito adds, half-grinning as she finishes the last of her bowl of ramen.

He narrows his eyes at her teasing glances, curling his lips in a soft sneer before nodding, slowly. "Yes, I suppose so. More than frogs, at the very least."

.

.

.


	5. i want to talk to you

**Dedication:** To Rhea and the lot of you.  
**Summary:** If heaven's grief brings hell's rain, then I'll trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday.  
**Notes:** Updating early coz I won't be around tonight~

**A Decade Under The Influence**

She is a wild thing, he decides two days later.

They are once again in the training grounds where he's bent in his battle stance, facing her and watching her watch him back with attentive eyes—violet irises dancing as she tries to pick up which way his next move is going to come from. He does not know why he's decided such a thing with only a few days of having met, but he knows it's true.

She tries to keep everything hidden under her composure; one that Tobirama is sure is expected of her from her family. But every now and then drops of her more wild, rambunctious side shows when she's not paying too much attention; it happens only for a few seconds. It's never long enough for him to observe and memorize a quirk or two.

Tobirama takes a deep breath, dropping his stance and standing back to his full height.

"What?" she asks, following his movements and crossing her arms in front of her chest in a defensive manner. "What'd I do?"

He shakes his head, "Nothing, nothing. What are your specialties?"

Mito stares at him for a second, thin brows furrowing. "Taijutsu, for the most part. Ninjutsu isn't really my forte."

"I see," he says as he takes a seat against a tree.

"Fūinjutsu," she adds as an afterthought. "My clan is known for fūinjutsu."

Tobirama has heard as such, before, when his father had still been alive and arrived back from a very quick journey to Uzushiogakure. Fūinjutsu—the ability to seal and unseal living things as well as objects.

Fascinating.

She kneels in front of him, interlacing her hands and placing them on her lap. She's proper and unlike what he's seen of proper people, she does it in a peaceful manner. Calm, rather than stiff—gentle and soothing, like waves.

"And you?" she asks after a moment of silence.

Tobirama blinks at her inquisition.

Mito isn't much for asking questions. At least, not about his fighting style or his jutsu. She hasn't even asked his name, to say the least.

"Sensing," he says, softly, burgundy eyes looking up at the sky for a brief moment. "I can sense chakra—feel it as if it were mine."

She stares at him in fascination, leaning in forwards. "Is that how you knew I was an Uzumaki?"

"Yes," he says, half-grinning. "You have… An attractive chakra flow."

Mito reels back, a dust of pale pink on her tanned cheekbones. "Oh…"

Tobirama chuckles.

.

.

.


	6. i will tell you about myself

**Dedication:** To Quentin Tarantino because wow idol.  
**Summary:** If heaven's grief brings hell's rain, then I'll trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday.  
**Notes:** Hi, pretty people.

**A Decade Under The Influence**

They sit at the riverbed.

Tobirama holds a smooth stone in his hand, arm resting on his bent knee as he looks beyond the riverside with squinted eyes. The sun is up at its highest point but the soft breeze by the river is cooling. He tosses the stone, watching it skip to the other side as he blindly grabs another one just to repeat the action.

"Your father constructs buildings?"

Mito looks at him, taking her hand out of the river and drying it with her haori. She shakes her head, tucking strands of red hair behind her ear. "Not exactly. He's… Kind of the head of our clan…"

He perks up, eyes widening a bit as he turns to face her. "Is that right? And here I've been tossing their heiress around."

She scoffs, thrusting her chin up in the air and looking away. "Anyway, he was good friends with Butsuma-san and feels as if it's his duty to help his clan. He approves of the idea of peace between the Senju and the Uchiha."

Tobirama turns to face the other side of the river, again, eyes narrowed and jaw tense. "I see."

"My father always thought Butsuma-san should have stopped the raging war," she says, dipping her forefinger into the river. "He never said anything because he refused to have our own clan be brought into the situation had Butsuma-san taken offense."

"He would have," Tobirama says, snorting. "My father was a belligerent man."

"I…"

He blinks, turning towards her with an eyebrow raised. Mito is staring at him with wide eyes, lips parted in minor surprise.

He pauses, realizing what exactly it is he's just said and he gives her a crooked grin, "How cliché."

"I… Yes, yes it is." She clears her throat, grasping at her composure again. "You are… Butsuma-san's son?"

"Yeah," he sighs, running a hand through his hair. "My brother's the one that came up with establishing a village."

"You're…?"

"Tobirama."

The first time he tells her his name and the first time she asks.

"Tobirama," she repeats, testing his name on her tongue. "I see. So… You're against the founding of the village?"

"No, it's not that." He decides to not go into detail about his brother and how blind he is to keep holding on to the bond he once shared with Uchiha Madara. "I'm glad the Warring States era is over."

She nods her head, staring at him for another second before turning away, returning her attention to dipping her fingers into the river.

.

.

.


	7. i was wondering about you

**Dedication:** To Rhea, kuromimi, the sylph, and narunoodles (I SEE YOU)  
**Summary:** If heaven's grief brings hell's rain, then I'll trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday.  
**Notes:** You guys. Our little row-boat of a ship is GROWING. Soon, we'll have to get a yacht or something and omg, happiness.

**A Decade Under The Influence**

"Brother, it feels like a lifetime since I've last seen you!"

Hashirama claps him on the back as they walk down the streets. He presses his lips together to keep a grunt in, hunching his shoulders front and back to flex the sore muscles of his back.

"Yes," he begins, stuffing his hands inside the pockets of his nin-pants. "You've been busy with the village's construction."

He turns in time to catch his brother's wide grin, dark forelocks whipping at his tanned skin as he turns left and right with fascinated eyes, watching as buildings and houses are constructed from the ground up. Tobirama grins, crookedly, at his brother's antics. Hashirama can be ten or twenty one but he will always have the curiosity and fascination of a child.

This is supposed to be the clan leader, he snorts.

"Isn't it wonderful," Hashirama sighs, grasping at his composure and settling for a fond smile. "Soon, brother, we will have a village—a refined system where no child has to die the way our brothers have."

"Indeed," Tobirama says, making a turn and watching half-of a tower being formed with wood and cement. "Have you thought of a name?"

"A name?"

"For the village," he elaborates, taking a hand out of his pocket and waving it in the air, almost carelessly. "A name for the village."

Hashirama turns to him, dark eyes wide with slight horror. "I… I haven't thought about it, honestly. I've been so absorbed in its constructions; I haven't even begun to _think_ about the essentials."

Tobirama rolls his eyes, shaking his head and trying hard not to get irritated with his older brother. But this is how they both balance each other; Hashirama is the optimistic, happy-go-lucky one and Tobirama is the serious, down-to-earth one. It is a nice balance, he knows, but sometimes his brother's complex could become so much; especially when he has to go around cleaning up after him.

Sometimes, he wishes his brother's seriousness when in battle would surface more on certain everyday situations.

"Where have you been, Tobi?" Hashirama asks after a round of silence.

Tobirama turns towards him and thinks about telling him about Mito. But what will he tell him? Her chakra is attractive and he can't help but knead chakra so he can feel hers along with his? That sometimes, when she doesn't really notice, she grins to herself and a dimple dips at the center of her cheek. That her hair is as red as blood and her eyes as violet as the sky when the sun begins to set?

Of course not, he snorts. What would his brother think if those words came out of his mouth?

That he is in love?

He's only known Mito for a week.

He shakes his head, dropping the thought.

"Nothing, really," he shrugs a shoulder. "Just training."

"Ah, brother, you never loosen up, huh?"

Tobirama scoffs, crossing his arms in front of his chest and looking away as he says, "Not while I have to watch over _you_."

"Wha?!" Hashirama's eyes grow wide as he shoved his brother. "That's not true!"

Tobirama laughs, rooftop-hopping as his brother begins to chase him.

.

.

.


	8. i am not good at these things

**Dedication:** To everyone that has been patiently waiting. And to Rhea.  
**Summary:** If heaven's grief brings hell's rain, then I'll trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday.  
**Notes:**I forgot where I was going with this, so my only motivation is the ending and the dire need to make everyone ship this. Bare with me (:

**A Decade Under The Influence**

On the following week, Tobirama finds himself in the training grounds, sitting in the middle of the field and his arms supporting his weight as he leans back.

The sky has grown dark and through the spaces in between the tree branches and the leaves, he can see the stars looking down on him. Mito lays next to him, her hair spread out and her knees bent and her eyes closed. Honestly, he doesn't understand how he's found himself in this predicament time and time again; abandoning everything that defines him to sit around and loiter with this girl with the sharp eyes and sharper smile and body movements like the waves of the lands where she comes from.

It's… Unsettling, to say the least.

Unsettling in the strangest ways because it doesn't _anger_ him; it simply makes him feel funny and weird.

As the days have gone by, Tobirama has been tied with watching over his brother's work and the slow, but steady, rise of the village. On the days after his inability to meet with Mito, Tobirama had spent extra time with her and even walked her back to where she and her father were staying during their time here.

It's… it's _ridiculous_!

He scoffs, turning away from the stars and staring at the darkness that surrounds them.

"Do you have any other brothers?"

"They're dead," he says, quite bluntly because he's grown annoyed with himself. "Died during the war."

Mito sits up, blinking her eyes and looking sad. "Oh."

"It's fine; they died as warriors."

"You don't mean that."

"I do."

She scoots closer, head tilted. "It's okay if it makes you sad."

"It doesn't," he says, turning to face her, his eyes locking with hers. "Compassion doesn't look good on you, Mito."

She raises an eyebrow, head tilting bad and lips parting.

She looks as attractive as her chakra feels, when she does that. But he means it; compassion looks better on people like his brother. Mito looks better with the spark of fire in her eyes and the poised arrogance of a warrior princess. Besides, the past is the past and it should stay there. Tobirama isn't one to indulge in something like that—_unless_ it has to do with the Uchihas because, frankly, he has every right to remember everything about them.

Mito scoffs after a while, shaking her head and causing her hair to fall over her shoulders in waves like blood.

"And you?" he asks in a drawl, observing her because there's always something to look at when it comes to Mito.

"I have a family filled with sisters. And a baby brother." She smiles at this and she looks younger than she already is. "I'm the fourth born."

He hums, staring at her for a bit longer before he looks away and up at the stars. "It's getting late; I should take you home now."

"I can go home by myself," she huffs, a pout on her thin lips.

"I'm sure you can," he says as he stands up, dusting himself clean and extending his hand to her to help her up. "But I want to."

Mito slides her hand in his and Tobirama pulls her up without much trouble. She grips his hand and looks up at him, an unreadable expression on her face and Tobirama admires the way her eyelashes frame her violet eyes and the way her eyebrows arch and her hair looks against her tanned skin. He shakes his head and tries to focus.

"I'm leaving, tomorrow evening."

He pauses.

"I see."

"Father wants to head home and check on the village and come back with more help." Mito presses her lips together and looks down. "I feel… As I should thank you for the company."

Tobirama turns away and begins to lead them out of the training grounds. "Shut up."

Her grip on his hand tightens but they don't talk for the rest of the walk towards her home. What little houses that are up and occupied are dark and the roads being made for the streets are empty as everyone sleeps the rest of the night away. When they arrive to her place, Tobirama lets go of her hand and takes a couple of steps back, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

"You'll come back," he says. It's a question but it comes out as a statement.

Mito doesn't reply but before he can turn and leave, she closes the space between them and places a chaste kiss at the corner of his lips. Tobirama leaves without a second thought.

.

.

.

.


End file.
